


A Reversal in Blue

by aba_daba_do



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reverse Falls, But they still love each other, Gen, Gleeful twins - Freeform, I tried to twist the twins' personalities just enough, Origin Story, Reverse Falls, Sibling bickering, mystic amulet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:58:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aba_daba_do/pseuds/aba_daba_do
Summary: The Gleeful Twins are Gravity Falls most popular performers. Smart, funny, and talented. But don't be fooled. These twins have a couple of tricks up their sleeves.





	1. The Twins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel and Mason find the mystic amulet that will change their lives.

The rain pattered on the windows and made the old house smell like rotting wood. Mason drummed his fingers against his knee in time with the rain. It had been a slow day. Tourists rarely came around when there was poor weather. And then with all the news about girls mysteriously getting attacked by a strange man in a black hoodie, everyone decided it was best to keep in doors. And Mason didn’t mind the day off at all.

  
Mabel mushed her nose against the pig’s, lifting him onto the couch with her. “Who’s a good boy? It’s you.” She scratched her manicured nails across his ears and on his head. “Oh Waddles, I’d burn this whole pitiful world down for you. You seem to be the only one who understands me, in comparison to those other animals.”

  
“I’m right here, Mabel. I can hear everything you’re saying.” Mason said from the opposite side of the couch, lounging with his head tilted off the edge. His cape was spread out over the couch’s arm and onto the floor like a spill of black velvet shadows.

  
“You were supposed to,” Mabel said in a sing-song voice. She rolled onto her back, her shoulder blades knocking into Mason’s forearm, and cuddling her pet pig. Waddles seemed to be the only thing she was even capable of loving. Their electric blue shirts were stark against the dreary sheen that echoed through the windows. The Gleeful twins both huffed out a sigh, Mabel’s wistful and Mason’s agitated.

  
“Why did Great Uncle Stan even call us into his study?” he asked.

  
“Why would I know? I’m not up in his weird old man biz.”

  
The door creaked open, Stan’s feet pounding against the floor. He grumbled and undid the first few buttons of his shirt, and tucked his 8-ball cane under his arm. Stan insisted on the eclectic outfits, apparently the bright blue and magician-esque clothes were all a part of the show. He glanced at Mabel out of the corner of his eye. “No pigs on the couch.”

  
Mabel sneered at Mason, “You heard him, brother. Get off the couch.”

  
“Why you little bi-“ he raised his fist in the air when the long black base of Stan’s 8-ball cane bashed his wrist away.

  
“That’s enough,” Stan snapped. Mason rubbed as his wrist, seeing where his skin yellowed and would certainly be yet another bruise in the next few hours. Stan sauntered back to his desk and leaned back in the chair. He rubbed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Listen, the reason I called you little brats in here is because our sales are going down. These tourists are dumb, but not dumb enough to watch the same show over and over again. We need to make it more appealing so the idiots come back.”

  
Mason grinned, “Appealing, huh? Guess we’ll have to fire Mabel.”

  
“Piss off, Dipshit!” She pried a switchblade out from… well Mason wasn’t even sure where, her costume didn’t have pockets. But she pointed it up towards his throat.

  
He cracked his cane against the desk, the sound echoing through the room. “That’s enough!” With a grimace Mabel tucked her switchblade away. “You two have one job and that’s to go out and find a new act! Something big and exciting or it’s out onto the street with both of you! I don’t allow freeloaders into my home.”

  
The twins shrunk back into the couch. Mason cleared his throat, “And how do you expect us to do that? What are you even looking for?”

  
“Hell if I know. But you kids had best come up with something, or else the Tent of Telepathy will fail." He cocked his head towards the door, and pulled a wad of cash ouf from his pocket and began to count. "Now get out.”

  
Mabel and Mason looked at each other, grumbled, and left the room, followed only by Waddles’ happy trot.

  
Mabel’s heels clicked against the old hardwood floors. She flipped her hair over her shoulders. “This is just brilliant. Why can’t that stupid old man come up with his own ideas hmmm? It’s not like we asked for Mom and Dad to ship us out here.”

  
Mason paused, “Well, we aren’t completely alone.” He reached behind his cape, and pulled out an old red leather bound tome. He held it up for her to see, the golden, 6 fingered hand glinting on its cover and the ominous stare of the number 2.

  
Mabel laughed with a high pitched bravado, clutching to her stomach in glee. She nearly doubled over with laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That book is just filled with bedtime stories and fairytales for little babies. I can’t believe you actually think its real. But I guess one of us has to be the dumb twin.” She wiped a tear out from under her black makeup-rimmed eyes before it could even touch her cheek.

  
“I’m serious,” Mason grumbled. “This book contains ancient necromantic powers beyond our comprehension. When we were digging the foundation for the Tent, I found it buried underneath. Like whoever wrote it wanted it hide it forever. If we can access these powers, we don’t have to keep up with the performances anymore. Imagine what we could be capable of: levitation, blood rain, demon summonings. We can rule this backwoods town and eventually the universe.”

  
“You are a complete idiot.”

  
“Listen, I don’t care if you’re too shallow to believe it. But we can at least get some ideas from it, right? Just like Stan says, tourists will believe anything if it sounds crazy enough.”

  
Mabel tapped a finger on her lips. “I suppose you aren’t completely useless after all, brother. Alright, fine. If we can find something in this book that will save our show, we can hunt for it. But if it’s all fake, I get to cut you in half, live on stage.”

  
“And if I’m right, and all of this stuff is real, I get to keep whatever magic item we find.”

  
She held out her hand, a red lipped grin spreading across her face. “Deal.”

  
He took it, mouth peeling into the same grin. “Deal.”

 

\------

Mason’s shovel broke through the soft, wet earth like the peeling skin on someone’s lips in cold weather. The rain trickled down over him, soaking his clothes to and making them clutch to his skin. His cape whipped and cracked in the turmoil of the wind. Mabel groaned and adjusted her grip on her umbrella. “Are you sure this dumb mystic amulet is even out here?”

  
“Positive.”

  
The amulet seemed like the best place to start. Apparently it had levitation and mind reading powers, the perfect thing for a stage performance. So what if the page had warnings about the amulet corrupting your soul and turning your hair white? It’s not like he was going to use it all the time. Just for shows and occasional revenge plots.

  
Mason sucked in a deep breath. The rain poured down his hair and onto his face, covering up most of the Big Dipper birthmark on his forehead. He honestly hated it, and used to cover it up before their parents dumped them in Gravity Falls and never came back. Apparently they thought the twins were evil or something. But when Grunkle Stan saw his birthmark, he forced Mason to use it as a marketing tool. That it made him look mystical or at least weird enough to be considered an oddity.

  
He leaned on the shovel, mud caked to the soles of his shoes. He had already made a decent sized hole, but so far had found nothing. “Are you just gonna stand there? Or are you gonna help me?”

  
She stared at her manicured nails, nearly filed to a point. “And get dirty? As if. I take pride in my looks, unlike you.”

  
“Stan is right, you are a brat.”

  
She scoffed. “Whatever." Mabel rolled her eyes. “I still can’t believe that you’re listening to some dumb book. But I suppose you can do whatever you want if it means I’ll be cutting you in half next show. Don’t worry, I’ll feed your entrails to Waddles.”

  
He tried to wipe the rain from his face, but it did no good. “And when I find this mystic amulet I’ll use it to levitate you off the floating cliffs.”

  
Something rustled in the bushes behind the twins, jerking around the branches and crunching sticks. Mabel jerked around, “What was that?”

  
Mason stopped, raising his shovel off the ground. “Beats me.” The he chuckled, “Maybe it’s that guy in the hoodie who keeps snatching girls. But yet again, I don’t know what on earth he would want with a bitch like you.”

  
Mabel sneered at him and straightened out her shoulders as if to appear more prim and proper. “Please. I’m pretty, talented, and funny. I’m the whole package. I’d kidnap me if I was given the chance.”

  
A pair of hands reached out for her waist, fingers nearly wiggling with anticipation. Mason gasped and raised the shovel over his head. “Mabel! Look out!” He brought it down in a clean arc, bashing it against the hands of the perpetrator. The shovel sliced down with a ching, as Mabel spun out of his way. They peered down at the ground. In the mud, sat a pair of hands, stiff and unmoving.

  
Mabel sucked in her breath, “Oh my God. You chopped off his hands.” Mason knelt down beside them and reached out. “Ew! Don’t touch it!”

  
He did, moving the hand just enough to see. “There’s no blood,” he muttered. The hands didn’t even look real, they jiggled like a soft plastic, and didn’t even have any bone or muscle protruding from it. “They’re fake.” The bushes rustled again, this time coming from all different directions.

  
Mabel took a couple steps back. She grabbed her switchblade and held it out in front of her. “Come out here and face us, you creep.” Mason raised the shovel back up, holding it up like a baseball bat.

  
The rustling increased, coming closer and growing louder. The twins held their breath. Something popped out. Something small but human like, with a tall red hat and a puffy brown beard. Mason cocked an eyebrow at it, “Is that a gnome?” More gnomes skittered out of the bushes and eased the twins into a circle.

  
“Woah, woah,” the gnome held out his hands and took a step back. “No need for weapons! I’m Jeff, I’m the de facto leader of the gnomes.”

  
Mason jabbed his shovel at it and scowled at it. “Why were you trying to kidnap my sister?”

  
The gnome clapped his hands together and rocked back on his heels, “Well uhm you see... “ he looked at Mabel. “It’s just that you’re the most beautiful girl we’ve ever seen, none of these other girls even compare! And we would like to make you our queen!”

  
Mabel paused and raised an eyebrow. “Queen?”

  
Mason rolled his eyes. This was commonplace for his sister. Boys were always lining up outside the Tent after their shows to try to woo her. Sometimes she would play with them, let them praise her and follow her around like little ducks until she grew tired. Other times she would shoo them away. And other times… well there was a reason she liked to carry around a switchblade. At first it was fun to watch her, but after a time, Mason grew tired of her tricks.

  
“That’s right! We’ve been going around town looking for the girl who would be just right for us, and you’ve got the whole package, honey! You’ve said it yourself. Pretty, talented, and funny.” Jeff got down on one knee and presented a ring made of massive crystals. “Mabel Gleeful, will you take us in holy matri-gnomey. Blah! Matrimony! I can’t talk today.” The other gnomes stared at her with hungry eyes.

  
Mabel backed up beside her brother and held her blade out further, rain rolling off of its tip. “Ew! No! Why would I marry you?”

  
Jeff stared up at her. “Because we’re gonna kidnap you.”

  
“Huh?”

  
The gnomes leapt at them, sharp teeth barred. They snarled and screamed, foaming at the mouth. They clutched to Mabel’s legs and tried to scale up her body, making her drop her umbrella. She tried to slash her switchblade at them, but they pinned her arm to her side and pried the knife from her hands. “Ahhh! Mason! Help!”

  
He tried to beat off the gnomes one by one, slashing and hacking at them. They had a nasty habit of stacking on top of one another. They clawed and scratched at him. One gnome gripped to his shovel and yanked it out of his hands while two more tripped him backwards down into the hole he dug. Mud splattered across the back of his cape and in his hair. For a moment, his ears rung and his vision flashed white.

  
The gnomes lifted Mabel off the ground, latching onto her to prevent her from kicking and squirming too much. “Let me go you little gremlins!” She shrieked. She looked at her brother, a desperate but violent glare in her eyes. “Mason!” Her voice trailed off as they carried her away.

  
The rain kept coming down. Mason pushed himself off the ground, the mud slick between his fingers. But there was also a something smooth like a river stone that slipped against his hand. He dug for it in the mud, pulling the thing out of the ground. Two cords dangled from it, caked in in a combination of mud and strands of grass. He wiped away some of the mud from it, revealing a pale blue gem underneath. “The mystic amulet,” he breathed.

  
It was real! He so looked forward to rubbing it in Mabel’s face. Or using it to throw her off the cliffs. Either one.

  
Not caring about the mud, he tucked it under his collar, like some hideous bolo tie, but if anyone could pull off that look it was him. He wrapped his hand around the gem and put all of his concentration into it. “This just got more interesting,” he said, blue light starting to glow from under his fingers and illuminating the scowl on his face.

 

\------

Mabel writhed against the ropes that bound her arms together. “Let go of me you creeps! When I get out of here, you are going to be so dead! I’ve done worse to things much bigger than you!” The gnomes had her pinned to the ground, ropes staked into the earth and lower ranking gnomes trying to hold her down. Her clothes were stained brown, mud and grass caked into her hair. The rain made her black skirt stick around her thighs and rings of brown get caught under her finger nails.

  
Jeff laughed nervously, “We didn’t realize you were so uhm… violent, sweetheart.” She snarled at at them, rain dripping down her face and smearing her black eye makeup.

  
Mason peered from behind the trees. His breath stung in his lungs, cold with rain and mist. He slicked his hair out of his eyes, and gripped the mystic amulet with one hand. Mabel screamed when the gnomes got closer, trying to force one arm free of her restraints.

  
“Let me go! I’ll never marry you!” Mabel yelled again, but this time more desperate. There was less spit to her voice and more of a whimper. Then she felt herself lift off the ground.

  
The air around her swirled like a cloud of pale blue light, though it had no weight or texture to it to suggest what it actually was. She was just floating. The ropes unwound themselves from her arms and legs, dropping to the ground like limp laundry. Mason stepped out from behind the trees, face illuminated in the pale glow of the mystic amulet. The mud had drooled off his face, and smeared into his blue shirt. He bared his teeth in a sneer, his eyes literally blazing with the same blue light as the mystic amulet. “The only one who messes with my sister is me!” He raised one hand in the air and slashed it forward, sending the gnomes spiraling back into the forest, knocking against trees or into bushes.

  
“Mason?” Mabel asked, as he lowered her down to her feet.

  
“Looks like I’m the winner of our bet.” He reached into his back pocket and held out a thin curve of silver to her. “I found your switchblade. Now can you do some work for once and help me teach these gnomes a lesson about trying to fight with the gleeful twins?”

  
Some of the gnomes staggered to their feet, just in time to see Mabel switch open her blade, the slice of her mouth caught in the reflection of the blade. “Gladly.” Mason raised his hand again, commanding the gnomes up into the air as Mabel poised the blade in her fingers.

  
Jeff squirmed in the pull of the mystic amulets power and Mabel moved the silver blade closer to him. “Wait! We’re sorry, please we’ll do anything!”

  
“Anything?” she smirked.

  
“Yes!”

  
The twins shared a glance, as if they could read each other’s minds. Mabel flicked the blade back down. “Hmmm. Well, I would be lying if I said being a queen wasn’t appealing. How about this? I won’t chop you up into little pieces and feed you to my pet pig if you follow my every command. I’ll be your queen, but you aren’t allowed to touch me. No. You aren’t allowed to even look at me. Deal?”

  
Mason squeezed the amulet, making Jeff contort and suffocate under its power. “Yes! Yes!”

  
The other gnomes squirmed and cried. “Queen! Queen!”

  
“Good. Then you’re free to go,” she said, as if now suddenly disinterested in the whole ordeal. Mason let go of the amulet, dropping all the gnomes to the ground.  
“Yes, your Majesty!” Jeff cried as he and the other gnomes scampered back off into the woods.

  
The twins rocked back on their heels and kept their eyes trained on the forest rather than each other. “I thought you wouldn't come,” Mabel muttered.

  
Mason nearly jumped back. “What? Why wouldn’t I?”

  
“Because we hate each other. We're always fighting. I threatened you with a knife earlier today… and yesterday… and the day before.” She frowned and looked away from him, twirling her hair around one finger.

  
“You're my sister, Mabel. I don't hate you. You piss me off to no end, but I'm not gonna let you get abducted by gnomes.” He sighed, "You're my twin sister. We're a package deal. Always have been."

She lunged at him without hesitation, both of her arms squeezing around his chest and back. "I don't hate you either. But if you tell anyone that I won't hesitate to cut your tongue out." Her wet hair clung to his neck as she tucked her head against his shoulder. He hugged her back, the wet cloth of the clothes like thin paper against her skin. The last time they hugged was their first day they arrived in Gravity Falls, and realized they were permanently stuck there, before the Tent started up or before Journal 2. Since then they kept taking their anger out on each other. 

  
Mason pursed his lips and then grinned, “You know… this could work for us.”

  
“What?”

  
“Getting along." He broke the hug, pulling her away by the shoulders. “Think about it. If we work together, who knows what we could be capable of. I mean,” he dragged his fingers down the spirals of her wet hair. “There is no one more diabolical than you, sister. We could make this sibling bond part of our act. We work so well together.”

  
She gave him a sly smile, and draped herself on his shoulder. “I think you’re onto something, dear brother.”

  
“No one will suspect that the two adoring twins could ever want to take over the town. We can harness its magical properties and become masters of this world. This mystic amulet is only the beginning.”

Mabel laughed, the taste of rain filling her mouth. She spoke with her performance voice, high and smooth, the kind of voice that warps around your mind like a boa constrictor. "The show is about to begin! For their next trick, the Gleeful twins will be taking over the universe!"

Lightning crashed behind them, as if ironically on cue. “And there isn’t anyone who can stop us.”


	2. Curiosity Kills Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason becomes suspicious of the new girl in town, and sends Mabel on a mission to get more information.

The stage lights blared down on the twins with a heated glare. Mabel always seemed cool and collected on stage, perfect smile, perfect posture… everything she said was perfect. Even the way the light glinted off of the bezzales on her costume was perfect. Mason, however, was just trying to to stay awake. He was up late reading from Journal 2. He was starting to get even more curious about it. Who wrote it? Where did they disappear to? And where was Journal 1? He fell asleep at his desk, face planted into the pages.

He held back a yawn. 

“For our final trick of the evening, the Mystery Twins will perform an illusion that is as iconic as magic itself!” Mabel announced to the wide-eyed and eager crowd. Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked, loud and echoing like the shot of a pistol. She motioned for the Tent of Telepathy handyman, Deuce, to roll out the wooden box with the Tents’ logo, a shooting star wrapping around a pinetree. She positioned the box at the front of the stage and stepped in front of it. She held out one hand to Dipper, who graciously took it. 

“With nothing but the aid of magic,” he said, performer voice on, “I will levitate my sister into the air!” He spun around, aiding her onto the box, making sure her head landed softly on the wooden exterior and that her feet rested comfortably in position. Returning to the crowd he continued on with his heavily scripted speech. “This trick is usually performed with the aid of a hidden hydraulic press. But here at the Tent of Telepathy, not everything is what it seems!” Then, with a dramatic flick to his cape and curl to his wrist, Mason pulled back the doors of the wooden box on both sides, revealing that there was nothing hidden behind them at all. He waved one hand over his sister, no wires either. He even pulled up his sleeves--not that anything up his sleeves could help with this trick. No, the real trick was a mystic amulet hanging around his neck. 

He placed his fingers against the amulet, smooth and cool to the touch. Then he raised one hand, commanding his sister to rise into the air. It took multiple hours of practice, and Mabel smacking him with a ruler every time he did it wrong, to make the mystic blue light disappear for shows.

The audience ooed and awed at the sight. This was always the part Mason liked best, how wide everyone’s eyes could get, the applause. They were so easy to trick. And when he used the magic amulet, he could feel its power coursing through his nervous system with hot electric pulses. He enjoyed looking out on the crowd, the feeling of being the most powerful person in the room. Except this time, something caught his eye. Or more so his ear. 

The mystic amulet had the extra advantage of mind reading, and if his eyes rested too long on an audience member, he would hear their thoughts. It was this particular night that he noticed the strange occurrence of a girl he had never seen before with blonde hair pulled up into a scrunchie and a windbreaker, sitting next to a Gravity Falls native, Gideon Pines. 

This was marked as unusual for a couple of reasons. 1.) Natives do not interact with tourists-- so the girl was probably not a tourist. 2.) The Pines were the rivals of the Gleeful, both families ran tourist traps based on tricking the naive into thinking that magic was real and constantly competed for sales. The Pines wouldn’t show up to a Gleeful performance without reason 3.) The girl was a very loud and obnoxious thinker.  _ That’s not possible. There’s no wires on her anywhere. Uncle Bud called them fakes just like everything else. Unless… they’re using magic! _

Mason pursed his lips together in thought. “Mabel,” he whispered, levitating her up higher so she could hear. 

“We’re in the middle of a show, Mason,” she said through her teeth. 

“Just look, in the audience. It’s that Gideon Pines kid.”

She shifted her blue eyes over into the crowd and then back at him. “So?” 

“There’s a girl next to him, blonde, dressed like she’s from some 90’s high school sitcom. She’s suspicious of us. I can read her mind, she knows were using magic.” 

“That’s the point. It’s a magic show!”

“No. It’s not like that.” He glanced back out into the crowd, making sure they were all still entertained. “Let’s talk after the show.” He motioned over to his side, levitating Mabel down on the ground next to him with ease. He held out his hand to her and waited for the applause to die down so they could take a bow. 

 

\------

 

“Do you know anything about her?” Mason paced back and forth in the dressing room, fingers digging into his sleeves. He had instructed Deuce to stand outside the door and make sure no one, especially some of Mabel’s admirers, could interrupt them. 

Mabel smirked, and tilted her head over the edge of her chair, brown hair falling like a dancer’s ribbons. “What? Do you have a crush on her or something?”

“Absolutely not.” He paused in his tracks, feet settling into the floor only momentarily. “But I want information from her. I’ve never seen her here before; she must be from out of town. What I want to know is what’s her connection to Gideon Pines, how aware is she of Gravity Falls’ supernatural nature, and how we can exploit it?”

“Exploit? What could this girl possibly have that you want?” She put a wipe to her face to clear away all the thick and clumpy stage makeup on her skin. 

Mason turned around and rooted through the bottom drawer of his vanity. He pulled out Journal 2, held it up, and walked over to her. “The Mystery Shack.” 

“That old place? It’s just filled with junk and rats.” 

He opened up the Journal to a map of “hiding places”. He found the second Journal in one of them, below the Tent of Telepathy. A few locations surrounded the property of the Mystery Shack. “But I have a suspicion the other Journal is hidden somewhere nearby it. It’s either still buried, or these two have it. I need to know. And I’ll need your help to figure it out.” 

“My help? Can’t we just walk over there and take it?” 

“Not without blowing our cover.” He grinned, “I got into Gideon’s head too. He thinks you’re pretty, wishes he could ask you out.”

She shuddered in her seat. “Ew… he’s like 12!” 

“But he’s our in. The new girl is suspicious of us already, and Gideon would never trust me. But he would be putty in your hands. I want you to go over there and pretend to be madly in love with him. Pull all the information you can out of him.” 

“No! No! Absolutely not! I’ll send the gnomes to go investigate the Shack.”

“The gnomes aren’t sneaky. I need you to do it. You’ve got a charm I could never possess. And besides,” he leaned in, gripping her shoulders and pressing his cheek to hers, staring at their reflections in her mirror, two blue eyed dark haired devils. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Anything?” 

The way she unfurled her grin in the mirror was ultimately mischievous, lips spreading like a snake uncoiling itself. He knew he’d regret whatever she was about to say, but not as much as he would regret not having that other Journal. “You’ll be my servant for a week?”

“A month.” 

With a long, extended finger she bopped his nose. “Then you’ve got a deal, dear brother.”

He leaned up and kissed her temple, skin still hot from the stage lights. “That’s my devious sister.” 

 

\-----

 

Mabel huffed out a sigh as she approached the steps to the Mystery Shack. She tried to go incognito, sunglasses and overcoat that she found tucked away in one of the old closets of the manor house. She didn’t want anyone recognizing her, for fear that the lie would get out of hand. The air outside was hot and sticky, clogging her throat with each breath.

She cleared her throat and rapped her knuckles against the door. Seconds later, a small little white haired boy in a cap answered the door. 

“Hello, Gideon,” she used her performance voice, low and smooth but also crystal clear.  

He jumped back, nearly tripping over his own feet onto the unfinished wooden porch. “Oh my! M-mabel! What brings you here?”

She twirled her hair around with one finger, black-painted fingernail pointed like a dagger. “I saw you at the show last night. You’ve gotten much taller, haven’t you? I was thinking about how you’ve grown up so much since my brother and I got here a few years ago.” 

Gideon flushed red, rubbing at his hat, the blue one with the dumb star on it. “I had a growth spurt last month.” 

“That would explain it.” She leaned down and smiled with two pressed lips like slices of fresh apples. “I know you’ve got a crush on me, Gideon. Why? I thought the Tent of Telepathy was supposed to be the rival of the Mystery Shack?” 

“I uhh… oh this is embarrassin’’.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed, just tell me. It’s okay.” 

He drew his eyes away from her and let out a half-hearted chuckle, “You seem like the kind of person who appreciates the sparkly things in life. All the bezazzles on your costumes. I really like them. You’re utterly enchanting.” 

Mabel blinked, momentarily taken aback. Usually when she pulled this trick on guys, they said they thought she was beautiful, or the way she seemed to be in control of everything. But the fact that some kid really liked the sparkles on her clothing was… refreshing. She spent hours making her family’s costumes and she was hoping someone would appreciate all of her hard work, especially since Mason and Stan hated the sparkles. 

Maybe having Gideon for a play thing wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Gideon, who’s at the door?” A blond girl wearing a llama sweater and a windbreaker stood in the doorway, leaning over Gideon. 

Gideon jumped backward into the girl with a screech. “It’s uhm. It’s Mabel Gleeful, from the show last night? Oh please don’t tell my dad, you know he’s no fan of them Gleeful twins.” 

Mabel straightened her back and smiled, this time with teeth and bright cheerful eyes. It was showtime. If Mason wanted information, he’d get it. “Gideon, who’s this? I’ve never seen her before.” 

He ceased he pleas for only a moment. “Oh, this is my cousin, Pacifica Southeast. She’s visiting for the summer.”  

So Mason was right; she wasn’t from Gravity Falls. The thing about the natives was that they were blissfully ignorant of the towns’ supernatural properties. They all believed whatever lie they told themselves about gnomes or sea monsters and never once questioned anything that looked out of the ordinary-- to them, this was ordinary. So that made visitors all the more threatening. They knew there was nothing ordinary about Gravity Falls. The twins should know, they were visitors once. 

Mabel pulled her sunglasses off and perched them on top of her head, trying to ignore the rim of sweat they left on her cheeks. “Isn’t that nice?”

Pacifica squinted at Mabel, and spoke mostly through the whistle of her braces. “What are you doing here, Mabel?” 

“Well, if you must know. I was going to ask your cousin if he’d like to see some of my costumes. This silly feud has been in our families for far too long. I wanted to show a sign of peace and give him a backstage tour of the magic. You’re welcome to join us.” 

Crossing her arms, Pacifica glanced down at her cousin, still begging for mercy at her side. “Gideon, can I speak with you,” she looked at Mabel and spat out her next word, “ _ alone _ ?”  She gripped Gideon by the back of his vest and proceeded to pull him back into the Mystery Shack. 

He squirmed around, trying to reach for something, but soon realizing there was nothing to hold onto. “Consider it a date! I’ll call you, okay? I already have your phone num--” Pacifica slammed the door shut, severing the connection between them. 

Mabel pulled her sunglasses back down and chuckled to herself, “Well, this just got interesting.”  

 

\------ 

 

Returning to the manor house, Mabel dropped onto the couch like a wilted flower, ignoring that her brother was already peacefully sitting there, mulling over some gas station sci-fi novel. She sighed dramatically, head falling against his lap. 

“How’d it go?” He asked, still staring at the book. 

“That place is a hovel. I could barely stand to be there. And it was so hot outside, my hair got all bushy in the humidity. Now I’ll have to fix it.” 

Mason groaned and set the book down, open with the pages jutting like wings from the spine onto the arm of the sofa. “Getting any information out of them, Mabes. How did that go?” 

“Well,” she adjusted herself more comfortable against him, adjusting her head against his legs, “the girl is named Pacifica Southeast, and you’re right, she’s not from here. And is definitely mistrusting. She pulled Gideon away from the door before I could pry anything good from him.” 

“So that’s all you got. Her name and visiting status?” 

“Relax, Mr. Serious-pants.” She waved her hand in the air passively, “I’ve lured Gideon into coming here. I’ll get him to talk in no time.” 

Mason grumbled to himself, “You should have gone to the Mystery Shack to see what else they might be hiding.” 

“Remember who the devious twin is. I know what I’m doing, just be patient. Now go be a good servant and make me some tea. Five sugar cubes in mine. Wait, never mind. I want it to be more sugar than tea. After that, I’d like for you to brush my hair until it shines. I need to control this mess.” She ran her fingers through her hair, occasionally getting caught in knots.

He rolled his eyes, and tousled her hair. “Anything it keep my bushy-haired sister happy.” Then he gently lifted her head off his legs to get off the couch.

 

\------

The following day, Mason passed Mabel in her bedroom, wearing her performance costume: the black skirt and electric blue swallow-tail coat with all the bezazzles around the collar and lapels. In the mirror, she carefully outlined her lips in cherry red. “What are you all dressed up for?” 

She only looked at him through the reflection and smacked her lips together. “Deception is a performance and I am the lead actress. But if you must know, Gideon is on his way over. But, I’ll need something from you first.” 

“What?” 

Her fingers ran through the curls of her hair, shaking them out into loose spirals. “The mystic amulet.” 

“No way! We agreed, it’s mine!” He instinctively put one hand to it and backed away. It hadn’t been in his possession for very long and he already felt a strange attachment to it. A need, almost. It gave him the only power he had ever known. He wasn’t so willing to give it up. 

Mabel spun around in her chair to stare at him. “I need that to know if the little twerp is lying to me. It’s our most valuable asset. And besides, I believe you agreed to be my servant for a month. That means you need to cough up the magic glowing rock if you want me to uphold my end of the bargain.” 

He paused and then reluctantly laced his fingers through the tie and looped it from his neck. “Fine.” If it meant Mabel would do her job, he supposed he could let her use it for a few hours.

He dropped it in the palm of her hand. He felt oddly severed from it, a ghosted feeling, like when you take off a ring you’ve been wearing too long and you can remember where it used to rest on your finger. “Thank you. I promise I’ll give it back when I’m done.” She pinned it up in her hair, using the ties to create a small little bow on her headband. “You shouldn’t be wearing it all the time anyway. What is it supposed to do: eat your soul or something?”

“Corrupt your soul and turn your hair white,” he replied flatly. 

“Exactly. You’d look awful with white hair. You should be more careful. Now get out, we don’t want to seem suspicious, do we?” 

Just as Mason left in a huff, the doorbell chimed downstairs. Mabel skittered down the staircase and across the echoing and empty halls to the towering double doors. When she opened the door, Mabel found two bodies instead of one. Gideon grinned up at her with blushing cheeks and wide eyes, beside him, Pacifica looked much less impressed. In fact, there was a scowl on her face. 

“Gideon… and Pacifica! How nice of you to come,” she spoke mostly through a strained and toothy smile. Great, now she had to worry about Pacifica getting in the way.

“Surprised to see me, Gleeful?” Pacifica sneered. Whenever she moved her thick ponytail would smack her cheeks. 

Mabel decided to be blunt. “Yes.” 

“Well, if you thought I was going to leave you alone with my little cousin, you would be wrong.” Pacifica crossed her arms and looked away. Not looking someone in the eyes was a lying technique. Crossing her arms was supposed to make her look more stubborn and immovable. Pacifica was definitely here to snoop. 

Mabel cleared her throat, “I understand. If I knew my brother was hanging out with some girl, I’d watch her with cold and unrelenting eyes. Luckily, Mason has the appeal of a raw chicken. I don’t have to worry about him.” Gideon chuckled nervously, but Pacifica continued to hold her ice-blue stare. “Come on,” she nodded towards the inside of the house. “The tent is just out back.” 

She led them through the manor, noting that the house was purchased 30 years ago by her Great Uncle Stan (however he afforded it, she didn’t know). The whole house smelled like the old pine floors and ancient dust from all the treasures hidden inside. When they first moved in, Mabel and Mason found some of the most peculiar things hidden behind secret doors or underneath floorboards: an ugly, shag carpet that swapped minds, wax figures that came to life at night (one of Stan’s earliest cons), and a jar filled with mummified eyeballs with wings. The manor was like a labyrinth, both whimsical and dangerous. 

She took them up the grand staircase to her bedroom. Not a lot of people saw her bedroom, only Mason. It wasn’t some big secret. The twins just never had a lot of friends. Her room was normal, a little messy even. A pink blanket sliding off the bed and onto the floor, Sev’ral Timez posters hung up on the walls, her bezzale gun left out on the dest. 

Pacifica looked around the room. “You don’t strike me as a Sev’ral Timez fan.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be? I saw them perform when I was a kid. It was pretty cool.” She left out the part where she broke into their dressing room, found out they were clones, and forced them to perform until their manager found them again. 

Mabel opened up the closet, an explosion of powder blue and bezzazles flashing before her eyes. “And here it is.” 

Gideon leaned in next to her, eyes wide with awe. “Mabel Gleeful, you are a gift.” 

That made her laugh, just a little, for real. Not her fake laugh. Gideon was a sweet kid. It was too bad she was going to have to start to pick his brain. Maybe, if things had been different, they could have been friends. Gideon was the little sister she always wanted! But that was the thing, the twins didn’t have a lot of friends. They were too busy protecting themselves. 

She placed her fingers on the smooth face of the mystic amulet. Gideon’s thoughts registered first, mostly thinking about how pretty her clothes were and how nicely her current getup hugged her… ew. Nevermind. She moved her concentration to Pacifica. Mason was right. The girl was an awfully loud thinking, her mind coming at you like a train veering off of tracks.  _ Good, they’re distracted. If I slip away now, I can just say I got lost on my way to the bathroom. If they’re hiding one, it will be on this property.  _

Mabel decided to let her go. Mason would be able to handle her. In the meantime, she needed to figure out what Pacifica was looking for. “You like what you see,” she asked, looking to Gideon.

“Oh,” he smirked, “I do.” She contained her shudder. Gross. 

Pacifica’s footprints padded away. 

Mabel reached out, dragging her fingers across the soft fabric. “I’m so glad we could spend this time together, Gideon.” She spun around, on cue, in order to pretend to be shocked that Pacifica was gone. “Hmm. It seems your cousin has run off.” 

Gideon buried his face in his vest. “Oh, she does that sometimes. Curiosity gets the best of her.” 

Reaching into her hair, Mabel pried the mystic amulet off of her headband, and gripped it in her palm until it dug into the skin. She leaned down, getting face to face with Gideon. “But why would she do that? Do you think she’s looking for something?” The cool glow of the amulet stung against her skin anxiously. 

\------

 

Passing by his bedroom, Mason heard the faint sounds drawers opening and closing, things being dropped onto the floor in sequential thunks, and clothing rustling. This was one of the moments Mason would have killed to have the mystic amulet. He pressed his ear against the door and waited. There was definitely someone breathing on the other side. His hand gripped around the knob and slowly opened the door.

A blonde girl sat on her knees, tossing his articles of clothing around carelessly. All of his books were spilled across the room, pages laid open and crinkled against the floor. She muttered to herself over and over again, a panic rising up through her short, huffed breaths. 

He leaned against the doorframe, a boa-constrictor smile slithering across his mouth. “Rummaging through my bedroom. That’s an interesting way of introducing yourself.” 

Pacifica jumped. Mason could practically hear her heart racing. She fumbled for words, eyes darting between Mason and his belongings scattered about the room. “I uh… I got lost.” 

“Lost in my dresser? How funny. What were you looking for in there, hmm? Blackmail? A diary?” He snickered to himself. “Or do you just think I’m cute?”

She blushed a deep red that made her hair look nearly white. “What! No- I!” 

“Well, I must say I am flattered but I can't return your affections.” 

“No it's not that!” 

“Then what is it?” 

“I was curious.” She sighed and looked down. “About how you did the levitation trick.” A lie. A definite lie. But Mason couldn’t figure out what she was actually after. 

“Curiosity kills cats, you know.” 

“I think it's ‘curiosity killed the cat’.” 

“Not the way I've seen it done.” He walked into the room, starting to put his books back on the shelves. It was a good thing he had the common sense to hide Journal 2 under the creaky floorboards of his room. “But if you must know, magnets.” 

“What?” 

“There are powerful magnets in Mabel's costume. That's how she floats.” 

She blinked a few times. “Wait for real?” 

“Why would I lie? It would get you to stop rooting around in my dresser.”

She crossed her arms, the waterproof fabric of her horrendous 90’s style coat zipped an swished across her arms. “I don't trust you, Gleeful.” 

“That sounds like a personal problem. I prefer to trust no one.” 

Pacifica, whispered to herself. “Trust no one.” Then she perked up, pretending like she never said it. “That’s a pretty pessimistic motto.” 

“Or a practical one. After all, some people are snoops who break into your bedroom and toss your personal library across the room.” He reached down and picked up another book, and tucked it back into its place on his shelves. His fingers lingered a second too long on the old, cardboard spine. “I’m relieved to see they’re not ruined. A lot of these are books I found in the house, others I picked up at gas stations or yard sales. I love dime-store sci-fi novels and urban legends. There’s an old scientific book I’ve read dozens of times since I was little. It gave me something to do in between shows, and helped me feel at home in this endless manor.” He paused, and smiled at her, finally pulling his fingers away from the books. “Do you like to read?” 

She shrugged. “A little.” 

“Read anything good lately? Gravity Falls certainly has some… strange selections.” 

Her blue eyes widened, and it took her a second to respond. “Not particularly.” That was the response he was hoping for. Her hands instinctively went to her ponytail, combing through the tangled blonde mess. “Why are you telling me this?” 

He sighed. “Because you think of me and my sister as big, bad monsters who live in the big, scary manor house and do a magic show for unassuming tourists.” Pressing his back against his dresser he stared at the mess she made in his usually pristine room. “You should probably leave now before Mabel worries.” 

Pacifica leapt to her feet. “Right!” She ran towards the door but yanked herself around for only a moment. “Oh. And I’m sorry I went through your stuff. That was kinda creepy.”

“Consider it forgotten. But maybe change your approach. After all,” his blue eyes punctured into her flesh, “curiosity kills cats.”

 

\------

  
  


After their guests left, Mabel dropped down into one of the old clawfoot chairs of the nearby parlor room. She groaned and dropped the amulet onto the floor with a clatter. “I never want to be in that little creep’s head ever again. From now on, you can do the dirty work.” 

“It will have all been worth it.” Mason picked up the amulet and stuffed it into his pocket and then sat beside her. “I have a theory.”

“I have an answer.” She kicked off her shoes.

“Go on.” The hard backing of the chair dug into his skin.

“You’re going to love this. They have Journal 3. Pacifica found it buried in a hidden underground hatch, that’s why she was so suspicious of you.”  

“Just as I suspected. I found Pacifica rooting through my bedroom today. She was definitely looking for my Journal.”

Mabel cut him off. “That’s creepy. Did she find any of your weird secrets.”

“I’m not stupid enough to leave my secrets in my bedroom. But this creates a problem.” 

“You mean getting the Journal from them?” 

He shook his head. “No, that will be easy. But it begs the question, where is Journal 1? I want all of them. They must have been hidden for a reason. If the journals are ever brought together, they would unleash a gateway to unimaginable power. And that would be our ticket. Imagine what we could do with that? No more Tent of Telepathy. No more Stan telling us what to do.” 

“No more creepy boys,” Mabel chimed in, sitting upright in her chair. 

Mason grabbed her hand. “And nothing to ever be afraid of again.” 


End file.
